Comfortable
by Missed Nin
Summary: Shikamaru saw Haruno Sakura crying three times, and tried to comfort her twice. Once, it worked. Childhood and awkwardness, good intentions and hard truths said nicely.  [Giftfic] [oneshot]


Shikamaru saw Haruno Sakura crying three times, and tried to comfort her twice. Once, it worked. (Gift-fic for Utuu.)

* * *

Shikamaru didn't have a very clear impression of his fellow students at the academy, for the most part. There were nine girls and fifteen boys in his class, and most of them he knew by face and voice and associations, not name.

Until they were seven years old, he didn't know Haruno Sakura as anything more than 'pink hair, quiet, knows answers when asked'.

But one day stuck in his memory: it had been summer, in the heat that even now leads him to go and lie under a tree to rest. The memory was of a restful lunch time – he'd never eaten lunch at the academy, giving his food to Chouji without fail, and so he had nothing to do but lie and relax, half-asleep. As always, his eyes were mostly closed, staring into the shifting pattern of leaves, and on this day he had sat alone.

It was quiet in Shikamaru's mind, but only because he was blocking out sound by ignoring it. One sound was clear in his recollections: a harsh cry had permeated that solitude, the shriek of an irate girl. He had glanced over, not moving his head. One sight: a pink-and-red blob, clear against the field, running. More bright figures behind her, moving slower in the same direction.

He had folded his arms over his head, blotting them out from his field of vision._ ('Girls, troublesome. Can't they stay quiet?'_.) But he'd heard more harsh sounds following that one outraged cry, ripping into the haze of shade and verdant calm that Shikamaru rested in. They were shrill with mockery, the direction they came from correlating with the way the pink girl had run.

He remembered noticing that the quiet pink-haired girl didn't come back into class that afternoon.

Later, probably after that day's school finished, (although the events seemed consecutive in his memory), he remembered a sight that stayed clear in his mind. He'd been walking back across the play-ground; the sun had gone in, hidden behind clouds that had already begun to entice him back to his field.

He'd seen red and pink, again. A mop of pink hair the usually shone like clouds lit by the last vestiges of the sunset, dulled because it was in shadow. No, when he'd got closer he'd seen that it was dulled because it was wet, the ends shone with liquid. Her hair was wet with muddy water, her dress was sodden as well, she was curled into a ball. He'd lifted one hand, been about to walk over and ask if she was all-right (his mother had always been very clear indeed on how to treat women). But she'd hunched her shoulders again as she folded arms around her knees, and even only looking at her shaking back, he'd known she was crying uncontrollably.

So he'd walked on, and felt guilty until he saw her the next day, and she was behaving as normal.

(Looking back, he was wrong to let that comfort him. But he'd been young, and he told himself he had not known any better; even if he'd been older and more mature than the others, and clever enough that he _had_ known better, privately and shamefully.)

* * *

The first time he actually spoke to Sakura was a few years later; at that time she'd been Ino's friend for years, and just begun to break up that friendship.

He was lying in one of his cloud-watching spots; it was late afternoon. It was winter, just turning to spring, and he gradually became aware of the fact someone was in the field below him. He saw pink and red, and realised it was Haruno Sakura.

Ino had been brooding for the last week about Sakura's supposed desertation of her, and Shikamaru had heard far more talk than he cared to about Sasuke, and about Sakura's insults of Ino. Ino had been... hurt by those insults, Shikamaru knew. But _Sakura _looked depressed. She was picking flowers, snowdrops, with lacklustre movements and short, tense gestures.

Shikamaru remembered seeing her cry, and he remembered feeling guilt about not coming to comfort her.

So he walked down into the field, calling to her. She turned, and too late he saw tears tracking down her cheeks. He felt awkward, but he'd have to try and talk to her. Women in all forms were troublesome, women at extremes of emotion were downright scary. But it wasn't polite to walk away from someone.

"Are you okay?"

Sakura looked up at him, eyes bright and lip quivering.

"Geez, I'm not going to bite." Shikamaru said.

She looked down, then up again. Her hands were clasped in front of her, the bunch of snowdrops in one hand, covered by the other. Her fingers fiddled with the stems, and she shifted from foot to foot, obviously not comfortable in his company._ Ino, couldn't you have picked someone less awkward to get upset with? This is troublesome._

"Look,... ugh, I don't know what I came over to say. You girls are strange."

Her face shifted through expressions, none of them easily identified. She wiped the tears away with one hand.

"Urgh, why don't you make up with Ino? She's been sulking all week, and it's too troublesome for words. You know, My parents spend ages hanging around with her family, and that means me and Chouji have to spend too long with _her._ She's scary, and she's worse than normal now you upset her."

"She... sent you over here?"

"Nah." He said, making a face "She's a whole lot too prideful to start sorting things out, so you'll have to."

"I..." Sakura looked down, then up again, "Don't want to be ... supplementary to her all my life!"

Shikamaru was amazed at how some people could do that. Turn from meek to raging with determination in the space of a single statement.

"Why would you be?" He asked, although he and Chouji knew full well how it felt to be in Ino's shadow, following her directions without daring to speak out.

"I've..." she mumbled something about flowers, voice low and cheeks red with shame. He thought the end bit was: "to her cosmos, always!"

"Tch, flower-arranging's troublesome. Make your own arrangements, Sakura-the-cherry-blossom."

She shook her head, sitting down in the grass and turning her attention to the flowers. She looked embarrassed, he thought, though it was always hard to tell what girls were thinking.

"Why does Ino want to spend time with me, Shikamaru-kun? I don't... see. She says..." She trailed off.

Shikamaru didn't know what she wanted to hear. Trying to be sensitive to what other people were thinking wasn't easy, particularly someone so shy and awkward. And now she seemed to have expectations of him, like a teacher waiting for the right response. Only this wasn't like a teacher, because she cared what his response would be and would be – hurt – if he got it wrong.

"Ino just _likes_ you. She knows those other girls, but she complains about them to me and Chouji, and she doesn't ... give them advice and nurture them, she just talks and goes on and on about make-up. And she doesn't care when they have arguments and fights. With you, she's hurt when you don't like her back, you see?"

Ino thought of Sakura as a little sister or daughter, as far as Shikamaru could see. In the last week, he'd heard all kinds of stories about their past and all kinds of angry and hurt attacks at Sakura. At her ungratefulness, which let Shikamaru know how Ino saw her mentorship of the little pink-haired girl. He hoped he was talking about the right thing, because he didn't want to make Sakura cry.

But he was rewarded with a smile, a slow smile that bloomed like a day dawning.

* * *

The next time Shikamaru saw Sakura cry it was two years to the day since Uchiha Sasuke had deserted the village. He'd been sitting on top of the Hokage monument, watching the sun set, and he'd only realised the significance of the date when, walking back, he saw her leaning against a bridge.

By this time, he knew her to greet in passing albeit only through the common link of Ino. But he noticed the dejected slump of her shoulders, and it bought back memories of when they were children.

He let his footsteps be heard on purpose, although it was second nature to walk in silence nowadays. If she greeted him, he'd stay and talk. If not, he'd remind Ino to visit.

"Shikamaru-kun, good evening" She said, face averted.

And for a minute he was tempted to leave anyway, but he made himself lean against the bridge beside her. For a moment, both ninja contemplated the sunset. The clouds hanging over the setting sun were dark and swollen with rain, but the sun lit them fiery-orange and rich pink, and only some of them kept their threatening air.

"Don't think too hard, Sakura. You must be tired out, working with Tsunade-sama."

"She's been working me hard, yes."

"You should spend some time with Ino, she's bugging me to go shopping with her. Why she thinks I'd be an asset to her little trips, I can't imagine." He picked at a splinter in the bridge's railing.

"To carry her bags, I would say."

"Ah, but you're probably stronger than me, can't you take my place?"

"_That's _why people call you lazy." she said almost scathingly, although her voice was a little cracked as she lifted it in indignation.

He grinned as he turned to deny it, but her eyes were reddened and her face tear-streaked despite obvious efforts to remove the marks.

He didn't feel like exchanging pleasantries after seeing that; he looked back down into the water, she looked aside.

They stayed there in silence for a while, and Shikamaru felt his eyes lose themselves in the ripples of water. He was pretty sure, now, that Sakura needed someone to talk to. He wasn't so clear why he was playing psychiatrist, but he didn't want to leave the conversation as it stood.

"The sunset's lovely, isn't it?" Sakura spoke with a wistful tone, but it was possibly just an attempt to break the silence.

"It is, I suppose." He said faintly. The outskirts of cloud, those that had been white like sheep's wool in the daytime, had been painted the same colour as her hair. But if he said that she'd think he was chatting her up, and she'd probably start crying because of Sasuke.

"I prefer daytime," He added, because he wasn't sure what to say but he knew that people like Sakura thrived on any conversation, not understanding silence. "The clouds seem to be in a hurry before night-fall at this time of day. And there's a lot to be said for the simplicity of Konoha's sky in the long summer day, a lot of forms in that two-coloured sky."

"I'm sure," Sakura said, smiling a little.

"It's a peaceful thing to watch, the sky in daytime." Shikamaru observed.

"I'm busy in the day, nowadays." And then Sakura's voice suddenly came to life, filled with frustration "Tsunade-sensei thinks she needs to keep my every minute occupied because otherwise I'll start falling to pieces over -" she choked "- Sasuke!"

That was it, the end of the pleasantries. Shikamaru thought he might be meant to put a hand on her arm to calm her, but her bare forearms showed muscle clenched tight with tension, and touching a taijutsu-trained shinobi in that state was foolish.

"She must wonder if you'll fall apart anyway." He said blandly, knowing it would cut her but unable to pretend she hadn't just lost control, "Ask her for time off to see Ino, why don't you? She'll understand that isn't just going to be leaving you room to brood."

"I have to brood some time" Sakura said, suddenly losing her tension and sinking down onto the railing like the tautness had escaped along with those six words.

"Everyone does, but if you do it when your watching clouds you don't really notice the stress, it just drifts away." This was, in fact, a lie. But it slipped out past Shikamaru, who acted glib or rude as a defence mechanism. That was an automatic answer, an easy out, one that sidestepped all the anxiety of being a leader.

"And - " Sakura laughed hollowly, "I'm – I'm, learning a lot. It's good for me, I'm getting strong."

"Why?" Shikamaru asked, his instinct seeking the pertinent question out with confidence.

Sakura looked up at the sky.

"Naruto said he'd be back, in three years. And, I don't want to ... I don't want to be left behind, when he comes back."

Shikamaru didn't look at her. That wasn't all of the answer, because although it had the hesitance of a fact that the speaker was trying find out and define, trying to express fully, it was also very obviously incomplete. There was a glaring silence where more words should go, and looking at her would pressure her to cover it up with lies.

"Before Naruto left to look for Sasuke, I told him... No, that doesn't matter. He promised me he'd bring Sasuke back, whatever happened." Her voice lowered, full with irony and self-recrimination "He promised with the nice-guy pose."

Shikamaru half-looked at her, and saw her shake her head.

"I want them back. I want them back so badly. You don't know what it's like to lose a team."

"If Naruto said he'd be back in three years, he won't break his word."

"Another year... another year of learning and training." Sakura murmured._ Alone,_ she thought.

"But you'll be stronger ready for him, right?" Shikamaru said with obviously false cheer.

"My parents don't know why I keep doing this." She replied, with equally false lightness.

He wondered if she was thinking: _nor do I_.

"But - I _want_ to be strong for Naruto, I really do." She continued.

He decided just to say it – the whole conversation was dancing around the silent extra member of Team Seven, the one who left.

"And what about Sasuke?" Blunt.

Sakura shook her head, let out a long breath.

"Oh, Kages. It." She broke off, then started again "It's difficult. I wasn't ... fair to Naruto before, I know that and I knew it even back then. I don't want him to have to... be held to ... I don't want to hold him back, and I don't want to cling to Sasuke when I know what everyone knows and I don't – don't --"

She pulled back, then suddenly punched the bridge. The wood cracked, and the top beam of the railing split entirely. Shikamaru took his hands off the broken support, turned to face her.

He reached a hand out, and put it on her shoulder.

"It must be so very hard." He murmured. She'd hear it as 'it must be hard to lose your team'. He'd thought it as 'it must be hard to care so deeply'.

"I didn't, didn't even like him like that at the start. I was too young to crush on someone properly, and it ... how did everything get this strong? How did it all become so permanent? I know I should move on and I shouldn't care. I guess I'm just someone who hates to give up."

"It's liberation, to be able to give up." Shikamaru said quietly, but not over-seriously. It's freedom.

"It's not an ability that comes naturally to me" Sakura retorted sourly.

He smiled a little, and the gesture opened his face up - lifting his eyebrows and curling his mouth, he looked younger and happier than the reluctant chuunin he was.

"I guess... not everything comes naturally." She added.

"How d'you think I feel leading people?" He asked, but he was half-smiling still.

"Oh, I dunno. I think you make a good leader."

_That's because you weren't with us_, he thought, but he knew it was a lie. He was a good leader, he just didn't want to be any kind of leader.

"I still don't like it much. Being responsible for people, it's uncomfortable. Scares me, makes me _care_ when I can be indifferent about my _own_ survival just fine. But that's what it's like, doing something you don't want to."

"It has to be done, I suppose." She was talking about herself now, he could see.

"It does, however hard it is." _And it's going to be hard to hear this, but I don't like lying_: "You owe it to Naruto."

She flinched at hearing that, but he looked her in the eyes. It wasn't comfortable to accept things like that, and it wasn't easy. But she owed it to ... no, it was just something that it was _right_ to do. Self-honesty, not self-acceptance but reconciliation of the truth with the excuses. She knew better than to let herself depend on Naruto and let her – feeling for Sasuke, she wouldn't say crush – affect anything. She knew better, and this clever boy (who'd always been able to understand this kind of thing, she thought) had been right to make her accept what she already should have accepted.

Shikamaru wondered if he should have said that. He was glad he did, though, because understanding shone in Sakura's eyes. It might even have been gratefulness. It wasn't comfort, but it didn't have to be.

* * *

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